The Key to Finding Jack by Ewa Jozefkowicz (best classic books to read TXT) 📕

for that. If the search for Jack had proved anything, it was that I, Sergeant Flick, was stronger than I thought.

‘Are you glad you went to Oro, despite everything?’ I asked Jack.

‘Absolutely – I don’t regret it at all. It’s the most awesome place. I hope we might go together one day.’

‘N’oubliez pas de vivre?’

He laughed. ‘You saw it at Grandma’s? I’m glad you went to visit her. Not forgetting to live is especially important if there is something that might be stopping you…’ he said quietly.

‘Like your blood?’

‘Yeah, for example. But everyone’s different.’

And then he turned to me and said, ‘Hey, will you read me the ending of your story? I still haven’t heard it.’

‘Sure.’

Lady Abigail had never set foot in the Evelina Children’s Hospital before. Her family had always been treated by the private surgeon, Dr Marshall, so she hadn’t had reason to visit one of these ghastly places. With the recent epidemics of scarlet fever and TB, the hospitals were packed, and there were rumours that you were more likely to contract one of these illnesses by visiting an infirmary than by doing anything else in the outside world.

The market stall that Henry had mentioned was by the hospital entrance and was run by two young, dirty-looking street boys. Lady Abigail was shocked to see that they were both wearing the exact same beret that Margot had. On the small table was a display of knitwear, all in a bold, blood red that made her eyes hurt. She picked up one of the berets and noticed the pin straight away. The little paper cards with bells were attached to everything.

‘How can I help you, ma’am?’ asked one of the lads. He was surprisingly confident for a street urchin.

‘Why do they all have this tag? What does it mean?’ she asked.

‘The picture? It’s the symbol of the Bell Foundation, ma’am – the charity that supports the little nippers.’

Of course. How wrong she had been about the whole thing.

‘My daughter’s missing,’ Lady Abigail heard herself say. ‘She owned one of these. She must have bought it here.’

‘What does she look like?’ asked the smaller boy.

As Lady Abigail described her daughter – her flame-coloured hair, freckles and unusually long legs – she could see their eyes light up.

‘You mean the lass who works at the hospital? The young nurse?’

‘Sorry? No. No. That’s not the one. She doesn’t work anywhere. She’s only thirteen,’ said Lady Abigail, and then coughed awkwardly, realising the boy she was speaking to was probably no older than ten.

‘Well, there’s a lass called Margot who we know. She must look like your daughter,’ said the boy shrugging.

‘Margot? That’s her name! Where is she?’

‘She’s with the nurses in the infant infirmary,’ he replied, indicating a door to her left.

Lady Abigail ran into the building that had always repulsed her so much. The stench hit her as soon as she entered – but she ignored it. She called to the nearest nurse, a burly matron in a huge apron and white cap.

‘Sister, is there anyone called Margot here?’ she asked. ‘I’m looking for my daughter. Do you know where she is?’ Tears were spilling from her eyes now and she couldn’t stop them, no matter how embarrassed she felt.

The nurse looked Lady Abigail up and down. ‘Our Margot?’ she asked. But seeing her desperation, she eventually nodded and said, ‘Come with me, madam.’ They walked together down the long corridor, where the cries of infants could be heard from behind the doors on either side. It sounded as though there were hundreds of them, all in pain, all needing someone’s love. It brought to mind the Christmas collections at church to support orphanages – Lady Abigail made a mental note to donate more money. She would donate her entire fortune just to know that Margot was safe.

‘She’s in here,’ said the matron. ‘This is the ward where we treat abandoned babes. A sorry number of them are found on our doorstep at this time of year, and some of them suffering from scarlet fever. There are a lot of families out there who cannot feed another mouth and they count on our help.’

‘Can I guess what happens next?’ asked Jack.

‘Yeah,’ I said, pleased at the thought. ‘It’s like a riddle from me to you.’

He thought for a moment, as I fiddled with the page of my exercise book. Just then, the 10.15 p.m. to New York appeared in the corner of Jack’s skylight and we both looked up, amazed that it was still there, even after everything else had changed.

‘I think that Lady Abigail and Margot reunite, but she stays working at the hospital. That’s what I want to happen,’ he clarified.

‘Why?’

‘Because I think it’s important to do what you believe in. Even if it’s not what other people want you to do. You need some guts, but I reckon Margot has plenty of guts.’

‘Ha! Maybe it’s because she’s based on you.’

‘Is she? I didn’t know,’ he said, pulling a face.

‘Of course you did,’ I said. ‘You knew from the moment that I started reading, didn’t you?’

‘Well, maybe we share some similarities,’ he said grinning. ‘I hope that we both end up doing something awesome. So…? Will you tell me what happens?’

I kept glancing at him, smiling, as I read:

Lady Abigail spotted Margot as soon as she walked through the door. She was dressed in a greying apron which made her look much older than she was, and she was leaning over a cot, swaddling the baby tightly against the cold. Then she gazed down at its little face with a look of happiness and love. Lady Abigail realised with a start that she hadn’t seen that expression on her daughter’s face in years.

Margot jumped when she saw her mother. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, alarmed and slightly frightened.

‘Looking for you,’ Lady Abigail whispered. ‘Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?’

Margot took a long time to answer.

‘I thought that you wouldn’t understand,’ she said finally,